uncut raw

az

no need for lato's

pure straight out bolivia

peru

uncut baby

what?

life is a struggle

that's why niggas i know stay on the juggle

some hustle to double

others hug you to mug you

poverty-stricken

they even turn a church kid into stickin

it seems sickenin

but what? whatever makes the pockets thickin

fuck police and no remorse for the beasts

that's lost on the streets

that pistol whip a priest for a crosspiece

some lost sheep

runnin thru strips

thinkin of top dealers

fillin tek clips

wit 'cop killers' that could stop gorillas

shovin a stubnose in buttholes

i'm nutso

skitzo

clepto

killin shit up throughout the metro

my thug essence will always keep me plugged with drug investments

sketch my reference

takin papers considered preference

and violations will lead to kidnappin

decapitation

so what you're facin

is realism that's in activation

livin off land with five honeys playin my hand

me and fam

sippin off guinness stout and eatin clams

it's all part of plans

a vet chillin in tamps

west and stans

outta state connect

slugs

sex

drugs and grands

what? for my height niggas

trife niggas

25-to-life niggas

this is as

pure as opium

purified for street players to open em

space

like three els laced with coke in em

shots awoken em

fake uniform takes the portion of

six trips

to young clips and killers coachin em

however though

fake ass niggas'll never know

cos my method's perfected

i'm movin sceptic and never show

i'm soon to blow

stack doe

lay on the low

while i'm sippin cristal

i mess with long island and moe

a part of nature

me wan' acres in jamaica

puffin exotic trees without seeds rolled up in leaf paper

so exhale

cos if i don't live to tell

then fuck it

if well

i'll see the rest of y'all niggas in hell

so all my good fellas

heroin

coke and weed sellers

what the fuck cats can tell us if they ain't got bread to bail us?

happy to survive

i haven't seen it all

peter pay paul

from the connivers to the livest

they crack fool

it's all war

the streets are filled up with guns galore

plenty young for war

gettin their minds flunked and sore

yo dun

cock the 4. motherfuckers think we're playin

back em down

holdin niggas for high stitches

what? what?